


Cleansing

by Shippers_Roost



Category: The Nightblade Epic - Garrett Robinson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Drug Addiction, F/M, M/M, Past Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-16 01:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18085025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shippers_Roost/pseuds/Shippers_Roost
Summary: After a conviction for possession of the drug known as magestones, Xain Forredar is sentenced to six months of counseling with Jordel Adair, a local psychiatrist. He must confront the source of his addiction, and work to overcome it, or else he may never see his son Erin again.





	1. Chapter 1

“Mr. Forredar, Dr. Adair is ready to see you now,” said the receptionist, a young man seated behind a desk on the far end of the room. A brass nameplate declared him to be Jormund, but Xain barely took notice of it. 

He slowly rose to his feet, clenching his hands into fists to still his trembling fingers. Already he could feel the hunger gnawing at his belly, demanding another magestone to quench the rolling flames within. His jaw clenched. No, that was what had put him into this mess. He would not give in to their allure again. Too much was at stake. 

Xain strode across the room. Jormund refused to make eye contact as he approached, instead busying himself with a stack of papers on the desk. Xain couldn’t blame the boy. He knew how his appearance had changed, thin and skeletal, with his skin stretched taut over bone and sallow to the point of jaundice. Even his hair had changed, thin and wispy where it hadn’t fallen out altogether. The damnable stones had left him as little more than a corpse. 

Xain only hesitated a brief moment before pushing open the double doors and stepping into the dimly lit office. He quickly stuffed his hands into the pockets of his blue coat before the doctor could see the tremors. He may have been forced to attend these meetings, but he would not allow Dr. Adair to witness his weakness. This was his battle to fight, his mistake to make amends for. 

“Welcome Xain, it is good to finally meet you,” said the doctor, looking up from a folder he held. “Please, take a seat.”

Dr. Adair was younger than Xain would have initially guessed. His hair was silver, but his unlined face and piercing blue eyes made Xain guess that the two were roughly the same age. His lip curled into a snarl. Figures. Two men, both at the same point in their life, but they couldn’t be further apart. One was a successful psychiatrist, managing their own practice, and the other...

Xain’s hands curled into fists within his pockets as a sudden itch appeared at his left elbow. He longed to pick at it, to pluck at the skin until the sensation abandoned him, until his thoughts were clear of anything but that simple gesture. Instead, he sat silently, not bothering to answer the doctor’s greeting. 

“How are you today?” Dr. Adair asked, setting his folder aside as he met Xain’s gaze. 

Xain huffed. As if his answer would actually matter. Dr. Adair surely had a plan for the session, and nothing he said would sway that.

Dr. Adair sighed, and adjusted his reading glasses. “I suppose that is fair. I’m sure you’re frustrated that you’re here today, but you chose this, remember? I can’t help you unless you’re willing to be helped.”

“Hardly a choice,” grumbled Xain. “Prison or sitting down with some crackpot once a month to talk about _our feelings_.”

“Still, it was a choice you made,” said Dr. Adair evenly. “The right choice I believe. My name is Jordel, I don’t bother with titles and honorifics in a setting like this. Today, I just want us to get to know one another.”

“Whatever you say Doc,” Xain snarled. He wouldn’t give the man the satisfaction of setting the tone for this meeting. He may have to attend, but Xain had no intention of cooperating. “I’m sure that file you’ve got there tells you everything you need to know about me.”

“Hardly,” Dr. Adair said, seemingly ignorant to Xain’s sarcasm. “It tells me the basic trivia to be sure, but nothing about the man underneath. That’s what I’m interested in.”

Xain snorted. 

“Very well then.” Adair picked up the file again, and flipped it to one of the front pages. “Let’s start with the basics. You are Xain Forredar, correct?”

“Brilliant deduction. Did they teach you how to read in medical school, or is that something you had to pick up in the field?”

“It looks like you’re from Wadeland,” said Adair, as if Xain hadn’t spoken. “It is an intriguing area, though I admit it has been some time since I last traveled through. Have you visited the city recently?”

Xain fought the sudden urge to pick at his skin again. He closed his eyes, counting backwards from one hundred while he waited for the sensation to pass. His fingers twisted into claws around the fabric of his pockets, but if Adair noticed, he made no comment on it. 

“I can see that small talk doesn’t sit well with you Xain,” said Adair, and he pushed the file aside once more. “I must confess that I feel the same. I didn’t study psychiatry because I wanted to discuss trivial details like this. Why don’t you start by telling me something that I couldn’t learn about you from your file?”

Xain huffed again, but Adair remained silent, his piercing gaze never leaving Xain’s. 

“Fine,” grunted Xain, once it was clear that the doctor wouldn’t budge. “I’m a Sagittarius, I enjoy long walks on the beach, and I think psychiatry is a load of crap. That enough for you?”

Adair broke into a broad smile. “So, he does have a tongue. Tell me, what is it you like about the beach? The motion of the waves? The unmistakable scent of the sea? The feeling of sand underfoot?”

“How about the lack of people asking me pointless questions?” Xain snapped. 

“Isolation,” Adair made a note. “Yes, I can see why that would appeal to you. I take it you’re something of an introvert then?”

“If I say yes, will you let me go?”

“You know I would if I could,” said Adair. “But, alas Judge Corin was quite explicit in his instructions. You are to stay for at least a full hour for these sessions, and even I cannot alter that unless it is truly necessary.”

Xain grunted and crossed his arms. Almost immediately, his fingers reached for the flesh of his forearm, but he stilled the traitorous digits with as much willpower as he could muster.

“You are here because you were found to be a frequent user of the drug known as magestones,” said Adair bluntly. “A known stimulant with very serious withdrawal symptoms, it is said that those that partake of the stones do so because they feel they lack power in their everyday life. Would you agree with that assessment?”

“You got it in one Doc,” Xain sneered. “I was powerless, so I turned to drugs. Boohoo. Hand me your paper, I’ll sign it, and we can both go on with our lives.”

Adair didn’t move. “Tell me, what do the stones feel like? I must confess that I’ve lived something of a boring life, and I’ve never tried magestones or their ilk.”

Xain barked out a mirthless laugh. “You really want to know?”

“I asked, didn’t I? That would usually imply that one would like an answer.”

Xain leaned closer to the doctor, his hands falling to his lap where they clutched at his emaciated legs. “Heaven. They feel like pure, unadulterated heaven. Sure, they are poisonous blighters, and they waste you away to a specter of yourself, but for a solid hour, you don’t care. It’s like everything in the world is going your way. Like you have the power to lay waste to cities and destroy your enemies. Like nothing could hope to stand against you, to stop you. And then it ends. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Adair smiled. “All I want to hear is the truth. And if that’s how you felt, then yes, that is what I wanted to hear.”

Xain sat back, folding his arms across his chest once again as a frown tugged at his lips. Despite his best efforts, Adair didn’t even seem shaken by his description of the stones’ effects. 

Adair glanced at the clock on his desk. “We only have a little bit of time left, so let me put forth a hypothesis for you. Over the past eighteen months, you and your wife Trill divorced. In that divorce, you lost custody of your son, Erin.”

A cold fury washed through Xain’s vain. Who was Jordel Adair to bring up Erin’s name? How dare he? Surely, he realized the delicacy of such a topic. 

“Trill remarried, to a man named Jerrik Yerrin. It was a short courtship, only a few months. So short, that one might think that she had been with him prior to your divorce.”

“Stop.”

Adair continued without so much as acknowledging Xain’s words. “For six months, you are able to see Erin on weekends, but the visits start to become further and further apart. Eventually, Erin tells his mother that he no longer wishes to see you, and a judge denies you visiting rights.” 

A hiss escaped Xain’s lips, and he glared at the psychiatrist, trying to put as much loathing as could into the gesture. Adair was walking a dangerously thin line. 

“You appeal the denial, and it is upheld. You appeal again and again, and despite your best efforts, you are forcibly separated from your son.” Adair sighed. “You say that you didn’t want magestones to feel powerful, and without knowing your mind, I am forced to believe you. What I think instead happened is that you were angry. No, not just angry. Furious. Furious at your ex-wife for leaving you, at Jerrik Yerrin for marrying her, at Erin for not wanting to see you any longer. You had a burning fire of rage boiling within you, and you needed an outlet, a way to quench the flames. And then you found the magestones.”

“Stop it!” Xain roared, suddenly on his feet. He slammed one gnarled fist down on Adair’s broad desk. “Stop!”

Adair shook his head. “Still, you are angry. That fire within has never been quenched, has it?”

It took every ounce of Xain’s willpower to not come across the table. His entire body shook, trembling with barely-controlled rage, but still Adair continued. 

“There is a deeper source to your anger,” Adair said, lifting his chin to lock eyes with Xain once more. “Even the tragic circumstances you have faced in recent months do not fully explain it. What truly drives your fury? Why are you angry?”

Xain moved to speak, words he would surely regret, but Adair raised a hand. “No, not right now. Take some time, think upon it. And when we next meet, tell me what you have come up with. For now, our session has concluded.”

Xain glared down at the doctor, his chest heaving as adrenaline pumped through his veins. He wanted nothing more than to throttle Adair then and there, but with great effort, he swallowed his wrath, and turned on his heel, stalking out of Adair’s office and letting the door slam shut behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Xain offered a sage nod as he passed Jormund’s desk. A hint of crimson clung to his wasted cheeks, but he didn’t speak. His behavior at the end of the previous meeting had been reprehensible, completely unbecoming of the image he needed to maintain. He had let Adair goad him into losing his temper, allowed the man bait a response from him. Not again. 

Adair was already seated at his desk when Xain entered the room. Just like before, he offered a warm smile and pushed his thick file folder aside. “Welcome back Xain. Please, take your seat.”

Xain let his head dip into a curt nod, but he didn’t respond. Adair had already guessed at far more than he would have willingly divulged. He wouldn’t give the doctor any other rope to hang him with. 

“Did you spend any time reflecting upon our discussion at the end of our last meeting?”

Xain’s jaw clenched. Adair was diving right back into the thick of it. Didn’t he realize how fruitless a conversation this was?

Adair clicked his tongue as he made a note, shaking his head. “I was afraid that would be the case. It is as I said before, I cannot help you unless you allow me to do so. You claim it wasn’t a choice, but nevertheless, you are here in front of me today. That wouldn’t be the case unless some small part of you wanted to be here.”

Xain grunted and rolled his eyes. Adair couldn’t actually believe this tripe could he? Xain was here because he wanted to stay out of prison. He had quit taking magestones because they were destroying him, and he needed to stop. This wasn’t some buried cry for help, it was a survival mechanism, simple as that. 

“Very well Xain,” Adair said, and he reached for that folder again, flicking it back open to his previous page with practiced ease. “Let us table this discussion for now, and we shall come back to it at a later time. Why don’t you tell me more about yourself? You mentioned last time that you’re something of an introvert, correct?”

“Don’t go putting words into my mouth Doc,” said Xain. “All I said was that I wanted you to stop pestering me with questions.”

“Please, call me Jordel,” Adair said, fixing his gaze on Xain’s once more. “I believe I mentioned already that I don’t care to use an official title in this room. I ask that you show me the same respect I have for you.”

“Whatever you say,” Xain grumbled, stuffing his hands back into the pockets of his coat. Adair’s keen eyes narrowed, and a frown crossed his lips. 

Xain sighed. “Jordel.”

The doctor’s frown vanished instantly, replaced with a small smile. He jotted a quick line, and though Xain surreptitiously glanced at it, the angle was wrong for him to be able to decipher the elegant script. “Thank you. It is a simple thing, but I have found that this journey is easier for us to take if we regard one another as equals within this room.”

As if. Xain suspected it was some kind of power play by Adair, an act to appear magnanimous while he continued to pull the strings behind the scenes. Xain wouldn’t be the one to fall for it. 

“Now, I believe you were saying that you are an introvert?”

“I just want to be left alone,” said Xain, picking his words carefully. “If you want to call that introversion, then by all means.”

“It could fit, but only you would know for sure,” Adair sat back in his chair. “What is it about solitude that appeals to you? The lack of human interaction? The lack of responsibility? The privacy to act without judgement?”

Memories flashed behind Xain’s eyes in quick succession. Trill, accusing him of ignoring her in favor of his research. Erin, eyes wide as Xain chased him from the study. Drystan, surveying his apartment before telling Xain that he could no longer see his son, his beady eyes betraying his sadistic cruelty. Xain himself, still whole and unmarred, staring down at the obsidian crystal he held in one palm. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Xain muttered, trying to shake off the memories. 

“Of course not,” Adair said, an infuriatingly calm smile on his lips. “I simply find it odd that one such as yourself would claim to prefer seclusion. You were a teacher for a time, were you not? That field is not an easy one for those who need time apart from the world to recharge.”

Xain gave a noncommittal shrug in response. What game was the doctor playing here? 

“Do not misunderstand me,” said Adair. “I do not hold introversion in lower respect than I do extroversion. I simply want to understand you, and square that understanding with the actions that brought you into my office. I want to help you heal. In your case, healing will mean addressing the root cause of your drug use. If the stones were a replacement for somethi—”

“They weren’t,” Xain snapped, cutting Adair off mid-sentence. “Quit trying to pretend that you understand what it will take for me to heal. This is my fight, my mistake, and my fault. That’s all there is to it. There’s no sob story, no hidden source of anger, nothing for you to sit back and analyze. Just stop trying.”

Adair shook his head. “You know I can’t do that. I am glad that you understand that this will be a fight, but it is my job to help you win this battle.”

Xain scowled. Why did Adair insist on trying to involve himself in this? 

“Let me tell you a story,” said Adair, sitting back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. “A story of a woman named Enalyn King, and her son Eamin.”

Xain’s blood froze in his veins, though he schooled his expression to appear disinterested. Where had Adair learned those names?

“When Eamin was young, he was abducted,” Adair continued, watching Xain with interest. “His mother Enalyn did everything she could to find him, but despite her continued efforts, she came up empty time and time again. Even the police weren’t able to turn up any leads.”

Xain’s mask slipped, for just a moment, and Adair’s eyes lit up with triumph. He leaned closer over his desk. “It wasn’t the police that eventually found Eamin. It was a local chemistry teacher, one who had been following the case closely in his spare time. He approached Enalyn directly, and told her his suspicions. He believed, and it was later proven, that it was actually one of Eamin’s tutors who had arranged for his capture, seeking a ransom of Enalyn’s recent inheritance. That same teacher also identified where Eamin was held: Enalyn’s own summer home, one that she had shared with the tutor, who was also a close family friend.”

“How...” Xain’s voice trailed off, leaving his question unasked. 

Adair smiled. “As you well know, that teacher only had one request for Enalyn: he asked for his involvement to be forgotten, his name never notated. He had only wished to find the boy and ease his mother’s suffering, he had no desire to become known for the gesture. His request was granted, and the teacher’s involvement was never publicized. As it happens, only a handful of people truly know how Eamin was found. Two of them are in this room.”

Xain shook his head, eyes falling down to his lap. For once, his hands were still, his mind too bewildered to fall into his bad habits. Where had Adair learned of this? Xain had been careful to cover his tracks, sure that only Enalyn knew of his involvement. How had the knowledge spread?

“Eamin is my third cousin,” Adair said, though Xain had not spoken. “Our family knows of the deed you did, but per your wishes, Enalyn has spread it no further.”

“Why?” asked Xain, clenching his hands into gnarled fists. He was overwhelmed with emotion, memories he had all but forgotten hounding him once more. “Why would you tell me this?”

“Because, I believe you are a good man,” said Adair, his voice somber. “I know you have made mistakes, and that the path you have trodden will not be an easy one to recover from. But, the man who devoted his spare time to solving the mystery of a missing child, and sought no reward is a rare man indeed. I will do everything in my power to help you be that man again Xain. But, I cannot do it without your help. I cannot force you to change. You have to believe in being that man again.”

“And if that man is gone?” croaked Xain, his voice thick and his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “What will you do then? 

For a long time, Adair did not answer, but when he spoke again, it was with a confidence that Xain envied. “Then we will see what kind of man you can become.”


End file.
